Rating: NC-17
Warnings: BDSM-ish, wax play.
Prompt: Twilight, Edward/Carlisle: Master/slave - I'd be so gentle with you.
Word count: 742
Summary: iHe gave Edward something no one could, a sense of surrendering and defenselessness. After decades of being the dominant, he forgot what it meant to relinquish all control. /i

A/N: Yeah, so I have problems with vampires having bodily fluids but for the sake of the strikeporn/strikestory, lets pretend they do.

Edward is looking outside the window; the night is dark and starless. He knows better than to have his clothes on, but he does not care. He likes the game, even when he fights back every time.

After a few years, he got used to Carlisle expectations. He didn't want a sex partner, he had Esme. He wanted a slave. A pray he could subdue.

'I'd be so gentle with you,' he said the first time. Edward didn't believe him and he was right. He still shivered when the memories of that first night came to his mind. He lay on his stomach, his hands cuffed above his head and Carlisle above him, impaling him with no compassion.

Carlisle, as frail as he may seem, was merciless when he wanted something. And he made clear he wanted Edward. He should've hated it, but he didn't. He gave Edward something no one could, a sense of surrendering and defenselessness. After decades of being the dominant, he forgot what it meant to relinquish all control.

Every night was the same, but every night was different. Carlisle appeared in a nightgown and nothing underneath. Edward was always dressed, even though Carlisle warned him to be prepared for him. He didn't care. He liked the challenge.

Punishment was always the first step. Teeth were his favorite tool. He grabbed him by the hair, pulled his head back and attacked the neck. Blood drops slithered down and stained the sheets. When punishment was over, his body was sore, swollen, blood clotting all over. But Edward didn't scream. He never screamed.

Today he arrives early. It's barely midnight but Edward is already waiting. He doesn't talk and he doesn't bite. He has a special plan today.

Faster than anything Edward's seen, Carlisle approaches him and tears off his clothes. His nightgown lies forgotten on the floor. Tonight's different, he can tell. Normally, Carlisle takes his time undressing him. Without talking, he orders Edward to lie on his back and he complies. Carlisle grabs the ropes he brought with him and ties his hands to the bed so tight he can feel them breaking his skin.

Edward is hard.

Carlisle straddles him and proceeds to punish him.

'He's going too fast', Edward thinks. But it doesn't matter. As long as Carlisle's happy, Edward won't complain.

He doesn't touch him. He bends and grabs a candle he left on the floor. With a quick movement of his hand, the candle turns on.

Edward can barely stand the pain when the wax touches his open wounds. He's panting and his eyes are wide shut.

Edward is now lying on his stomach, his arms bent in a strange angle.

He feels Carlisle's cock pressing his prostate. No preparations, no warnings. Every cell of his body can feel the pain and the pleasure. The stroke of a bell announces the hour. It's midnight. Carlisle strokes again with the second bang. He's not going fast but he is merciless. Another bang, another stroke. Edward feels like screaming but he controls himself. Carlisle doesn't like when he screams.

Twelve bell strokes gone and Edward body is already used to the foreign member inside him. Pain is slowly disappearing and Carlisle knows it. He's not going to allow it.

Edward feels the wax on his shoulders, his back, his arse. Carlisle pulls out and fills the void in Edward's body with more wax. Pain is almost unbearable.

With a swift movement, Edward is on his back again. He wants to touch his aching cock, he needs to touch it, but he knows his master would never allow it. That's why his hands are always tied. He knows what's coming.

His back leaves the bed in a sudden, violent movement when the wax touches his cock, but he doesn't scream. He is panting heavily and his brow is covered with sweat.

Carlisle accommodates his legs between Edward's and impales him again. He grabs Edward's cock in his hands and starts stocking it. Pleasure fills him for a moment, but is accompanied with pain when he feels the nails carving through his skin.

Carlisle's pace is accelerating. It's not enough but Edward won't beg. He likes taking his time and Edward knows it. He hears Carlisle's breath getting faster, shallower. He's close.

When they're done, Carlisle puts his gown and leaves the room. Edward lies on his bed, his body aching. But it doesn't matter. He heals fast.

END